Ship of Fools
by CheapNovelty
Summary: Depression is a horrible thing. It takes every happy thought, every joyous moment and drains the color from them until there's nothing left but a dark, empty gray.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own Degrassi. I'm still pretty new at this so I appreciate all of you who have been nice enough to review, keep 'em coming! **

**Song suggestion - "Millstone" - Brand New**

Depression is a horrible thing.

It takes every happy thought, every joyous moment and drains the color from them until there's nothing left but a dark, empty gray. It clouds your mind with doubt and negativity. It eats away at you until even _you_ can't recognize yourself.

Eli Goldsworthy knows this feeling all too well.

He's dealt with this for two years now, ever since Julia died. He's tired of feeling useless. He's tired of finding reasons to get out of bed. He's just plain tired. With all the questions he's going to leave unanswered, there is one thing he wants to make clear: he's not doing this for an easy fix, a simple solution, no; he was doing this _for_ them. His parents. Adam. Clare. It was for their own good, if he didn't do this now he'd only further drag them down. He wasn't going to let himself destroy them anymore.

They were brave enough to be his friends; he wouldn't continue punishing them for that foolish mistake. If anything, his action would be a "thank you." They had all been there for him, at one time or another, when he needed them. He didn't deserve the compassion and patience they showed him. He didn't deserve their time or their friendship. He just didn't deserve them.

Another thing he felt should be brought to the light: he didn't blame _any _of them, not one bit; he assured them all so in their letters. He couldn't think of a reason to blame any of them if he had to, they had all brought so much joy to his dull existence.

His parents shouldn't have to hover over him and constantly worry about what he'll do next. They used to always be laughing and happy, but now they were always concerned and asking questions. He'd pretend not to notice the wrinkles now prominent in both his parents' foreheads due to stress. Having a psycho for a son can't be easy. He made them doubt their parenting - thinking they didn't do enough for him- when really they were exceptional. No other parents would have been able to keep up with him and remain happily married at the same time.

Adam shouldn't have to always check on him, he should be able to leave his friend alone without wondering what would happen to him. He was not a babysitter. He shouldn't have to tiptoe around certain subjects, afraid of upsetting Eli. He shouldn't have to waste his time trying to cheer up someone who was too far gone.

And Clare, he could never blame her. He envied her. Hell, he'd run from himself if he could. She tried so hard to save him, but he was a lost cause. He knew he depended on her way too much, but he couldn't help himself, she made him forget how horrible he was. He should've known she'd run, deep down he probably did. Everyone leaves. It shouldn't surprise him; he couldn't even take car of himself, why the hell would some 15 year old girl be able to? It was unfair of him to hope she could fix him. He couldn't be fixed, no matter how hard he wanted to be, it wasn't going to happen.

He hopes they won't get too upset when they hear the news. There was no way they could have stopped him. This was inevitable. Every moment of his 16 years was leading up to this. They shouldn't blame themselves, if anything, they prolonged his stay here. He got the chance to fall in love again, to actually have a best friend, because of them he was able to genuinely smile from time to time. They did so much, but they couldn't save him.

He knew they all wanted to leave, hell, Clare _did. _Everyone leaves, they have to, he wears people out. He knew the only reason they stayed with him was because they felt bad. If he left them they wouldn't have to feel guilty. It'd be his own fault. Everything was his fault.

In his opinion only good things could come from this. He would be gone; he'd be out of their hair. No more calls from the principal, no more making room for his hoarding problem, no more paying for his expensive therapy that wasn't doing any good. He couldn't screw up their lives anymore. One day, they'll look back on this and smile.

He knows they'll feel bad at first, especially his parents and Adam, but he knows further down the road they'll realize this was a good decision. They could all stop fretting over him and his stupid problems and get back to their lives. Get back to living. And he, well he'd be in a better place. Where exactly? Purgatory? Hell? Anywhere but here.

He was tired of hurting people he cared about, he'd done that enough. As long as he was breathing the cycle would continue. He didn't want to be a burden anymore. He loved them all and he hated seeing them in pain. He hated it even more when it was caused by him. This had to end. Clare, Adam, Cece and Bullfrog, they deserved happiness, every one of them. They wouldn't, they _couldn't_ get that if he was around. He'd only ruin it.

He's been thinking about this, what he's about to do, for awhile now. He hates himself a little more (a fact he didn't even think was possible at this point) for not doing it sooner. He could have spared them so much pain. But no, he had to be stupid and wait. He actually thought for a moment or two he was getting better and that everything would be alright. What a load of shit.

He wonders how everyone will react the next day at school. Will he get a mention in the morning announcements? Maybe a special bench with his name engraved on the side? Doubt it. He bets kids at school won't even notice. Adam will of course, a few teachers too maybe. After doing role call for the third time with no reply from "Goldsworthy?" they should get the message. That's it. Adam and a few teachers. What an honor! Anyone else he's ever associated with will be too busy trying to avoid him; not even realizing that person she's trying to avoid is no longer there.

Adam will be fine, Clare too once she picks up on what happened. Adam has his brother, Fiona, Wesley, Connor, the new girl Katie who he's taken a liking to, and Clare of course. He's not worried about Clare, it's not like she's noticed his existence lately anyway. If things somehow get rough for her though (that's a laugh), she has Alli, Jenna and Adam to help her through. He knows this won't be necessary. They'll get over him, he's not that special.

His parents are away for the evening, his father had some type of event going on, and apparently the station would be airing live all night from some venue. After constant coaxing that he would be alright, Cece agreed to tag along with a hesitant look on her face. They don't call it mother's intuition for nothing.

Before they left he gave each one of them tight hugs to which they awkwardly responded to. Cece honestly couldn't remember the last time her son initiated a hug. She was worried at first, but the small smile Eli flashed her washed away all her doubts. He mentioned maybe calling Adam to hang out to further reassure them that he would be just fine on his own. They seemed to buy it. Both Cece and Bullfrog surveyed Eli one last time before heading out the door. Eli watched them from the window, giving a slight wave as they drove off. He kept his eyes on them until they were out of sight and remained standing for a few minutes, just in case his parents forgot something and had to turn back. Wouldn't that be awkward? After another moment he decided he was safe, the time had come. No more stalling, no more regrets. The time remaining was precious.

His first thought was to slit his wrists, he figured the kids at school would appreciate the irony, but then he thought of his parents' faces when they would find him. He'd done enough to them as it was, he didn't need to add traumatize to the list. After going through the pro's and cons for other methods he decided on pills.

His parents would come home late to a quiet house and find him lying on his bed, completely still. They would think he was asleep. It'd be peaceful…or about as peaceful as this situation could get.

Once his parents left he raided the medicine cabinets, collecting whatever pills he stumbled upon. He ended up with a wide assortment of painkillers.

With heavy steps, a heavy heart and a handful of pills Eli made his way up to his cluttered bedroom and closed the door behind him. He glanced at the three envelopes on his desk that he'd written earlier - one addressed to his parents, one to Adam, and one to Clare - before he started crushing the pills he found with a butter knife that was stashed underneath his pillow.

Once they were powder he emptied them into his half empty water bottle where his already dissolved anxiety pills resided. He didn't want to take any chances, he screwed up enough times in his life, _and this_ would be the one thing he got right.

He climbed onto his made bed and began to shake the bottle repeatedly, only stopping once all the pills had dissolved. He slowly untwisted the cap and looked around his room, trying to remember every detail. With a deep heavy sigh he brought the bottle to his chapped lips and began to drink.

He tilted the bottle higher and higher, chugging the water down. He swallowed the bitter concoction and grimaced. The hard part was done, now all he had to do was wait. Laying his head down on the cold pillow he let his mind begin to wander.

He thinks of his parents and how they'll react. He's pretty sure they'll cry at first. He's never seen his father cry before and hates himself even more for being the one to do that to him.

He thinks of Adam. He prays he understands why this had to be done. He hopes he doesn't get bothered at school for this. He trusts he finds a nice girl who accepts him as he is.

He even thinks of Clare. He wonders if that boy he's seen her with makes her happy, he hopes so. He wonders if she'll come to his funeral.

His eyes start to get heavy and he knows he's almost there. With the moments he has left he decides to remember the good times.

_His first concert, his first kiss with Clare, the time Julia told him she loved him, him and Adam's numerous discussions over which issue of The Goon is the best…_

He feels himself start to get weak as he continues,

…_the time he and Clare skipped English class, the first time he made love to Julia, the Dead Hand concert with Adam and Sav, when he first bought Morty, the time Bullfrog and Cece told him they were proud of him after hitting a homerun in gym class, lying in a hammock, holding Clare at the secret party…_

His eyes start to droop and his thoughts become clouded. He can barely see the room his eyes are so heavy. He tries focusing on the light fixture above him, but everything is blurred.

He's lost track of whatever he was thinking of by now. He feels his body begin to shut down.

All he see's is…Adam, silently laughing, presumably at one of his crude jokes, Bullfrog shooting him that mischievous smirk he inherited, Cece smiling wide at him and ruffling his dark hair and…Clare. She's looking at him, genuinely happy, not scared, and those blue eyes he loves so much are twinkling.

He smiles weakly as the imaginary Clare grins wider. He tries to reach out and attempt to touch her, but he is far too weak to even lift a finger. He feels his pulse slowing and he can no longer keep his eyes open. His breathing grows weaker and weaker, the rise and fall of his chest now almost nonexistent.

He's numb, he can't feel a thing, the ghost of a smile still sketched on his pale face as the smiling girl disappears and everything fades to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**First of all, thank you for sticking with such an angsty story; I know this isn't easy to read. I got a few request asking me to continue with other P.O.V.'s, so that's exactly what I'm doing here. There is one case of the F word, but I didn't feel it was strong enough to bump up to M so, if you're easily offended by that maybe you need to go back. Also, it goes out of chronological order, so I'm sorry if you get confused.**

**This story has dark themes and may be upsetting, feel free to turn back now.**

**I do not own Brand New, Nirvana or Degrassi. Reviews appreciated!**

Cece knew something was wrong as soon as she stepped into the house, she could just tell.

She and Bullfrog had just gotten home, a little after two to their big dark house. After they had left earlier she considered having Bullfrog turn around and get Eli, she didn't want to leave him alone, but Bullfrog insisted he'd be fine. They had been so touchy with him lately, he deserved a break. They could trust him. Only after his accident occurred did Cece and Bullfrog truly realize how troubled Eli was.

Two years prior, after Julia's death, they had first considered therapy for him, but it never played out. With their move, a new school, and her new job they just got distracted. Once his nightmares started they pressed again, but he assured them it was nothing he couldn't handle. He was fine.

Things were different now, Eli was getting help. He had a support system, his therapist would check in with his parents, and he was even taking anti-anxiety medication. He was getting better.

Yet, with all this reassurance there still was an overwhelming feeling of dread that overcame Cece when she walked inside that house.

The house was eerily quiet, the only noise being the hum from the refrigerator. All the lights were off; it just felt empty, unlived in. A chill creeping up both adults' spines as they walked into the living room, hoping to find some sign of their son's presence.

Cece and Bullfrog often returned home late, either getting drinks with friends or one of Bullfrog's station events like tonight. But they had never returned to their house like this. Usually the TV or Eli's stereo would be one, blasting Dead Hand well into the night, not this time. The remote still sat untouched on top of the television in the living room.

Cece shook her head and tried to calm herself down. What parent freaks out just because the TV or radio isn't on? It's two in the morning for goodness sake, they shouldn't be on. Besides, Eli mentioned inviting Adam over, maybe they decided to stay at the Torres' residence instead.

Something in the back of her mind told her that wasn't true.

Sparing a glance at Bullfrog she could tell he felt the same uneasiness that had taken her. Bullfrog placed a gentle hand on her arm and quietly told her, "I'm sure he's fine honey." She shot him a slight smile and nodded.

They ventured into the kitchen in search of a quick snack before bed, but once they flicked on the lights another surge of worry rushed through them both. The counters, the stove, the table were all spotless. This may not seem so shocking, but the Goldsworthy's knew their son. Whenever they came home late in the past their kitchen would be a mess: empty coke cans strewn across the counter, grease puddles on the stove, a few forgotten chips crushed into the floor, and a pizza box awkwardly stuffed into the trash can, the aftermath of a guy's night with Adam. Not tonight. There wasn't even a crumb in sight. It looked exactly as they left it.

Maybe Eli didn't eat, that wasn't too out of the ordinary for him lately, sometimes his medication made him lose his appetite, but both Cece and Bullfrog felt it was something bigger than that.

With a quick worried glance at each other they soundlessly made their way up the stairs and stopped in front of Eli's door. The large skull and crossbones adorning his door hanging forebodingly as Bullfrog timidly raised his bulky fist and knocked. No reply. The silence tearing through them both.

"Eli? Ya in there bud?" Bullfrog rasped out. When they still didn't get a response he shot a worried look at Cece, her face mirroring his own. With the lock on Eli's door no longer an issue, Bullfrog reached down, grasping the cold door knob in his palm and twisted it open.

.

.

.

She remembered the first time they read the letter together. After returning home from the hospital, the doctors unable to do anything for them besides give them some information on dealing with grief and inform Mr. Simpson of the incident, they had collapsed on their kitchen floor, holding each other as they cried for the rest of the night.

For the next week neither went into work or their son's bedroom. They barely slept or ate, everything in the house remained as it was on that night. Bullfrog had already made the painful phone calls to the rest of their family, informing them of the tragedy. The neighbors and other town folk dropped by to give their condolences, none of which actually ever knew Eli.

Cece was in the middle of throwing away another fruit basket when she suddenly remembered the letter she had seen on her son's desk.

She slowly made her way upstairs and peered into his dark bedroom. Everything looked as it always did: his bed made, posters still pinned up on the walls, a hamper of dirty clothes in the corner, a stack of notebooks peeking out from under the bed. It was like he was still there, everything as he left it, even the three letters on his desk.

Cece brushed away her stray tears as she sat down on the edge of his bed clutching the letter addressed to her and Bullfrog. She could hear her husband calling her name downstairs and his heavy steps on the stairs until he was standing just outside the door. He looked rough, the stubble on his chin more extreme than she had ever seen and rings around his eyes as dark as bruises. She's sure she doesn't look much better. Bullfrog cautiously made his way in and sat by his wife looking at the envelope in his wife's shaking hands. Catching her eye he stiffly nodded as she slowly opened it up and they both began to read.

_Mom, Dad…There's so much to say here, I don't know where to begin. I know this is hard enough for you both so I'll just get to the point._

_I'm sorry you had to see me like this. Hopefully you'll come home from Dad's event, get a snack like usual (caramel corn right Cece? And for Bullfrog…I'm going to say…that bag of chocolate covered pretzels he hid, correct?) and head off to bed. Maybe you won't find me until morning._

_I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for putting you through this, you deserve better. I'm sorry for bringing all this stress into your life. I'm sorry for always causing trouble and leaving the mess for you to clean up. I'm sorry I broke your trust. I'm sorry I lied about Adam coming over. You've probably figured out I never called him by now haven't you? I'm sorry I couldn't get better, you deserve better than a broken kid._

_I don't want you guys to feel responsible for this. You didn't know things were this bad because I didn't want you to. This is NOT your fault. There was nothing you could do to prevent this, so please, don't even think like that. _

_Maybe in the future you could have another kid. Start fresh. Someone who can make you proud and help you forget all about me and what I did to you._

_Everything will be better now._

_You shouldn't have to waste all your time worrying about a son who is beyond help. I want you to be happy; you used to be so happy. I'm sorry I ruined everything._

_Please, please, PLEASE do NOT blame yourselves for this. You were amazing, both of you. I couldn't have asked for better parents, I just wish I could have been a better son. _

_I don't want you to resent Adam or Clare either; their hands were clean in this as well. The only person to blame is me, I did this. Not either of you, not Adam and not Clare. Just me._

_I'm sorry I made you suffer so long; I should've done this earlier like I planned. I'm sorry I gave you false hope, I was never getting better. I never would have._

_Just know you made my final years here as enjoyable as they could have been. You somehow still got me to smile, laugh, and forget about how horrible everything was for a moment and for that I'm forever grateful._

_Cece, I'll miss all the times we'd randomly bake cookies and you'd let me lick the bowl. I'll miss teasing you about all those goofy soap operas you watch, I'll even miss watching them with you as much as I hate to admit it. I'll miss you nagging at me to cut my hair and to go to bed sooner. I'll miss hearing you sing Christmas carols at the top of your lungs, even in July._

_Bullfrog, I'll miss all our hunting trips, even though we usually came back empty handed. I'll miss listening to your broadcast and you giving me a shout out or a song dedication when I'm having a crappy day. I'll miss working on our cars together and debating who'd win in a race. I'll miss all your crude jokes at all the worst times._

_I just…I'm really going to miss you both so much and maybe one day you'll forgive me. Take care of Adam for me. I love you both. - Eli_

By the time they got to the end they were both hysterical and clutching onto each other. Someone, presumably another neighbor, was ringing their door bell, probably to drop off another sorry-your-son-killed-himself-pie. Both of them ignored the ringing as the reality of the situation finally hit them.

They've both reread the letter so many times now they know it by heart. It's dirty and smudged from their fingers and some words have been blurred from falling tears, but it doesn't matter, they could spill coffee all over it, burn it or rip it to shreds and the words would still be etched into their minds forever.

Cece always makes sure to seal it up after each read, keeping what's left of her son safe. Her and Bullfrog usually read it before bed and try to focus on the happy times he mentioned in the letter rather than the time they found him.

They both remember that moment in infinite detail, it still haunts their dreams.

.

.

.

As Bullfrog pushed the door open Eli came into view. Cece instantly breathed out a sigh of relief, glad he was home, asleep, but he knot in her belly only seemed to grow tighter for reasons unknown to her.

They both stood in the doorway taking in the scene before them: he was still in his clothes from that day, minus his shoes, lying on his made bed. His right arm and foot were hanging off the bed while his left arm was draped across his stomach, still. His head was slightly tilted and his chapped lips parted. The dark bags under his eyes were visible even from the doorway. His dark hair splashed across his ghostly pale face.

They looked around the room briefly, not finding anything out of the ordinary: an empty water bottle sat on his nightstand beside his cell phone, a few crumpled pieces of notebook paper lay around his trash bin, and one corner of a Nirvana poster was dangling loosely. For a moment, Cece thought he had fallen asleep writing like he often did, but once her eyes ventured to his desk she saw his laptop was closed. But…there was something else on his desk, three envelopes with Eli's sloppy script strewn across them. Cece took a step closer but immediately stepped back and covered her mouth after reading the addressees.

_Mom and Dad. Adam. Clare_.

Bullfrog heard the sharp intake of breath beside him and turned to look at Cece who was now as white as a ghost.

He shot a glance at the three envelopes she was looking at and realization dawned on him. As calmly as he could he closed the remaining distance between him and his unmoving son.

Tentatively he reached a shaky hand out and placed it on Eli's ice cold forehead. Tears started to fill his eyes as he gently pushed back his dark hair. He quietly whispered, "Eli? Eli? C'mon wake up." Cece was now at his side sitting on the bed, hands on Eli's shoulders slightly shaking him. Both avoided touching his chest and neck afraid of what they would or worse still, would not find there. "Come on baby boy, wake up. Eli? Eli honey? Elijah!" Tears trickled down both their faces as he lay unresponsive. Bullfrog shot Cece a look as they both knew they couldn't hold off any longer. Cece nodded quickly and sucked in a breath of air as Bullfrog placed two fingers into the side of their son's neck.

Cece watched her husband's face anticipating the sigh of relief that was sure to come. She felt her heart drop however when a look of panic overcame Bullfrog's features.

Frantically whispering to himself he moved his fingers all over Eli's neck, searching for a pulse. After several agonizing seconds he hastily stood up, pulled out his cell phone, wiped the moisture from his eyes, and began to dial the three numbers he hoped never would have to call.

Cece was worried, more than she's ever felt before, but now, seeing this side of Bullfrog, one she's never seen in 20+ years of knowing each other, she's scared.

Tears are falling down his face and he's shaking. Now more than ever she needs her Bullfrog, the laughing and joking Bullfrog, because once she sees him she'll know everything will be alright. But he's not here.

She can hear him crying into the phone, "My son…my son's not breathing."

Upon hearing Bullfrog croak out those words she does something she hasn't done in years. She prayed. Cece Goldsworthy prayed to a God she had long forgotten, begging him to help her son, please, she would do anything, anything, _please_, don't take her baby.

This was a joke; this had to be a joke. Eli was always pulling pranks and messing with people. This was no different. He'll open his eyes, any second now, and they'll laugh and she'll smack him in the arm like she always does. As the seconds ticked away she grew frantic. She won't even be mad, promise, he just needs to open his eyes, right now and she won't even scold him for the horrible trick he's playing on his poor mother.

But his eyes don't open.

And it hits her, Eli is not breathing, he's not asleep, he's not joking and she's losing him.

With this thought she breaks down, a sob ripping through her throat. She wraps her arms around him and pulls him onto her lap, his head lying against her shoulder. She starts rocking him, like she used to when he was little and he would fall and scrape his knee. She's holding him, her baby boy, crying hysterically into his hair and she'd do anything just to feel his breath tickling her neck.

Bullfrog has been off the phone for a bit now; he's just pacing, muttering to himself and clutching his hair. She's never seen him so upset and it's only putting her further on edge.

He's somewhere else right now, that faraway look present in his blue orbs. His jaw is clenched tight as a river of tears pour down his face.

"Fuck!" Suddenly Bullfrog shouts and kicks Eli's dresser hard. Not even caring about the throbbing in his foot he comes toward Cece who is still sobbing and rocking her son.

"Give him here, Ceece" he grumbles while scooping Eli into his arms. He climbs onto the bed alongside his wife and positions Eli on the bed with his chin up and his head back. Bullfrog places two large hands on Eli's chest and begins to perform CPR. He pushes on Eli's chest, blows air into his mouth and repeat. Over and over. Cece is clutching Eli's hand, his rings leaving indents, while whispering encouragement.

As the seconds tick by Bullfrog is slowly losing his composure. His own tears have now fallen onto Eli's face.

He needs to come back, he has to. He's their only son, he can't lose his son. Not now. Not like this. He was getting better. This can't be real. It's a dream, yeah, that's the only thing that makes sense. He's asleep right now on the couch, the TV long forgotten. He'll wake up and relief will wash over him. He'll wake up and tell his wife and his son about his foolish dream. Cece will hug and reassure him while Eli will laugh and say he's losing it.

But he's not waking up and neither is Eli.

The only sounds in the room are Cece's sobbing and Bullfrog's panting. In the back of their minds they both know. It's no use, he's gone. He's not coming back. They were too late. But neither one will admit it. Neither one is giving up yet.

Bullfrog is still blowing oxygen into Eli's mouth, desperately trying to save his son, and Cece is still holding Eli's hand as the ambulance pulls up.

Bullfrog's face is red with effort and both he and Cece have matching tear streaks down their cheeks. The paramedics feet are rushing up the stairs while the blue and red lights light up the neighborhood. Bullfrog's still pushing at his chest, Cece's still praying, but it's too late, time's up, the show's over, their baby boy is gone.


End file.
